Rash Decisions (PREVIEW)

Chapter 3 - Chance

JULIA FERRIS

I peer down at my soaked shirt, not daring to make eye contact with any of the gawking coffee house patrons. I wish a black hole would appear at my feet and swallow me. I hate New York City, today. 

I finally lift my head up to see the time, cursing myself for running to my office building to change out of my jacket and into my heels first. I’d much rather have coffee on my jacket than my new lucky shirt. Well, it was supposed to be lucky when I bought it as the last wardrobe gift to myself, thinking that I gotta take it easy blowing my savings on clothes.

I glance at my blouse a final time, thankful that the dark green does not hold the coffee stain, but merely appears damp.

“Here you go, sweetie. Troy can be a dick sometimes, I’d know.”

I look up to see the red-headed barista handing me a damp, white towel from behind the counter. I force a grin as I take it out of her hand.

“Thank you. I bet he can be.” I wipe at my shirt, knowing that this is as good as it is going to get, and thank my lucky stars that New York City is big enough where I won’t be running into that guy any time soon.

I hand the towel back, shooting her my help me out smirk. “You think it will dry during a thirty-four-floor elevator ride?”

She shrugs, baring bright white teeth as reassurance. “Maybe.”

I nod my understanding, submitting defeat, and utter another profanity under my breath, knowing that whether I like it or not, I will be late. Just great.

“Thanks again. Have a good day.”

Instead of replying, the girl raises a quizzical brow at the kind comment, and goes back to work.

I head out the door, lifting the thin, wet material from my skin, shaking it as I cross the street to the my building thinking, what is it with this city.

TROY DILLINGER

I adjust my tie in the refection of my office door, and then swiftly grab the coffee as I head in the direction of Paul’s office.

“Good Morning, Mr. DillInger.”

“Mornin’, Claire. How many times do I have to mention, calling me Troy is fine.”

I flash my assistant a smile. As the slight pink rises to her high cheekbones, she lightly speaks, “Troy … Um, would you like your phone messages now?”

I raise my hand, waving it back and forth. “Not right now. I have a meeting with Paul Ferris. He’s expecting me at any moment.”

“Oh, of course. I knew that.”

I continue my strides, smirking to myself, thinking Claire is adorable, and bright, but sometimes she can be a bit air headed.

Quickening my pace down the hall, I note I have a mere minute to spare.

I walk past Paul Ferris’s own assistant who happens to be striking blonde, that I am told was hand picked by Mr. Ferris himself at a work event weeks ago. Lucky bastard. Though, I’d prefer not to want to sleep with my assistants. It would be too distracting. Claire is sweet, but I don’t want to fuck her. It’s a blessing in disguise, I think.

The blondes lush lips curve upward as she takes notice of my entry.

“Hell-o, Melanie. Stunning, as usual.”

“Good Morning, Mr. Dillinger. And thank you. Mr. Ferris is expecting you.”

I clench my jaw into a smile, and want to tell her to call me Troy too, but I battle my manhood, knowing keeping thing’s platonic between Melanie and I is the best plan of action. My dick and brain battle most days.